


24 Days

by CamillaEmily



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, classic self-indulgent fic, or sadly, read if you wanna cry happily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 07:27:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12127506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CamillaEmily/pseuds/CamillaEmily
Summary: 'Over the 24 days Whizzer Brown sat in that hospital room, held in a purgatory of survival and wearing the most ghastly clothes, everybody in his little family fell asleep by his bedside.'Read: Whizzer has a lot of love in his heart.





	24 Days

Over the 24 days, Whizzer Brown sat in that hospital room, held in a limbo of survival and wearing the most ghastly clothes, everybody in his little family fell asleep by his bedside.

Marvin did it the most, to Whizzers great chagrin. Every night he would pester Marvin about going home and getting some real rest rather than collapsing in that uncomfortable chair that made Whizzers back ache just looking at it. Marvin would always brush him off, yawning lightly in his and laying his head to rest upon the pile of their intertwined hands and fingers, mentioning Cordelia's new gefilte fish recipe that almost didn't make him gag to change the conversation.

Marvin would fall asleep on his hands, eyelashes tickling Whizzer's skin and breath fluttering across his wrist. Whizzer'd carefully and slowly shift his frail body downward to level his face with Marvin's and gaze at how his features twitch and hair fall onto his forehead. He'd kiss the tip of his nose, the only thing he could reach without his body aching, and watch his nose scrunch up and nuzzle further into him. He'd smile, inch closer and press his forehead against his, close his eyes and murmur, emotion plastering his throat and his stomach clenching as the intense feeling lined everything inside of him, "I love you so much, Marv."

Rarely, when he could get Marvin to leave, Marvin would always make Cordelia or Charlotte promise to stay instead. This is where Cordelia came in as the person who stayed the longest after him. She didn't only stay because Marvin couldn't, he could always hear her hovering outside the door at unholy times of the night, checking his chart. Cordelia was the sister he never had, and he loved her, but she also needed to go the fuck home because if he eats on more bagel covered in mayonnaise because she was too tired to realise it wasn't cream cheese, he might have to lug his dying body out of bed and drag her there himself.

Unlike Marvin, she'd always lay next to him as she was slightly less stubborn and would accept his invitation to rest on the bed. She wouldn't hold him, and if she did touch him, it was faint and gentle like when she'd rub his back after a coughing fit.

He liked that.

Ever since he'd got, sick everyone seemed to be touching him all the time like he'd disappear if they didn't have a hand on his shoulder or his arm. Cordelia'd just lay there, her breath soft and comforting, the odour of her perfume and shampoo masking the putrid smell of bleach that suffocated him whenever he was conscious.

Cordelia talks in her sleep, small jumbled, incoherent phrases that didn't mean anything but were tender falling from her lips, and he liked to think she was telling him how much she loved him in some weird alien language because saying it in English wasn't enough. He kissed her forehead and whispered, "I love you too Delia."

While Whizzer would verbally threaten and mentally picture dragging Cordelia home, most of the time it was Charlotte who did it physically. She'd then come back, pick up his chart and flick through it as if anything had changed in the 10 minutes she'd been gone. Whizzer would make a joke comparing Charlotte to Santa Claus about how she should just put him on the nice list if she wanted him better so bad. She'd laugh, a little wetly, and place the clipboard on the bedside table to look at him with the caring eyes that made him feel so young. She'd run her fingers through the hair he had left in a way that reminded him of his mother, her nails scraping against his scalp that made his body buzz with exhaustion.

Charlotte would perch on the bed, Whizzers head falling to her cosy lap, ignoring the hospital smell that laced her clothes and focused on her unembarrassed fingers in his hair and drifted to sleep, quiet words falling from his lips in his last moments of consciousness, "Love you, Lottie."

Mendel did it five times. Whizzer pinned it down to his constant exhaustion and sleep depravity that would weigh his small frame down to a slouch. He suspected that Mendel had trained himself to sleep for a few minutes at a time to make up for the hours he lost at night as he would tilt his head back in the moments he had to himself and his eyes would close and his breath would slow. Staring at a peaceful Mendel's face, he could see what Trina liked about him; his brow was kind and the scruff he wore on his face screamed stereotypical suburban Dad. He had his hands clasped on his stomach, his body language eternally open and loving, and soft breaths curled from his lips.

The only reason Whizzer knows he falls asleep was that he was a snorer. A loud, obnoxious, how-has-Trina-not-smothered-him-by-now kind of snorer. But weirdly, it was somewhat comforting; the hospital was too quiet at night, Whizzer, too used to the whizzing sounds of cars, the rustling of blankets from Marvin and the mumblings of sleep-encased words in his ear.

He gazed across the room to where he was slouched in the chair and found the words escaping his mouth without him realising, "I guess I love you, Mendel."

Trina fell asleep two times which was two more times Whizzer expected. He knew that he and Trina had become unlikely friends and had even stretched enough to say they genuinely cared about one another. They had a few things in common: they both enjoyed fashion, they both preferred baking over cooking, and they both liked Star Wars.

That's why he enjoyed the alone times with her the most.

Without Mendel or Marvin around to revert her back into her practised but working-on-shaking feminine facade, Whizzer couldn't believe how much she could talk about how much she loved Princess Leia.

She'd fall asleep with her head in her arms, hazelnut brown hair spilling over her shoulders and form moving up and down softly as the clock against the wall clicked over to show eleven in the evening. He'd chuckle as her words from her rant on how inspiring it was to watch Leia be a strong woman and stand up for herself while still being an emotional and sweet person, eventually faded into light snores.

His hand met the crown of her head, her hair soft and warm under his fingers and he promised himself that if he lived, he would style it like Leia for her one day, "I love you, Trina."

"I know." She responded reflexively, and Whizzer laughed heartily.

Jason fell asleep only once. It was just for a few minutes on one of the Fridays in the small window of the switch between the two parents' custody. It was nearing midnight when Marvin had called to say there'd been an accident and he would be there soon, to which Whizzer told him not to worry, that Jason was a big boy who could wait with him.

Turns out the boy couldn't make it past 11:30.

Whizzer was unsure of his love for Jason. He'd never seen himself as a family man, but it seems he hadn't really had a choice - this wonderful and bizarre group of people had been thrust upon him against his will. Jason was hardly his son, biologically or not; he'd always thought himself a bit of a bad example for him, the wrecking of this boy's - this child's - family always keeping him a step back no matter how hard Jason tried to pull him closer.

He admired him. The boy was stronger than he looked, the emotional turmoil he'd been dragged through didn't spoil the positive attitude, one that he admittedly hid. But he would always save his brightest smiles for Whizzer, his giddiest laughs and his corniest jokes accompanying them until Whizzer was grinning for hours after Jason left.

He looked down at him as the 23rd day bled into 24th and brushed his fingers into the dark curls so like his fathers and so warm like his mothers. He smiled sadly, but then Jason flinched, and Whizzer brought his hand back, only for Jason to sleepily reach up to hold his wrist against the side of his face and mumble, "Love you, Whizz."

Whizzer felt his eyes burn.

He stroked his thumb against his cheek.

"You wanna know a secret Jase?" He whispered. Jason snored lightly in response making Whizzer chuckle wetly, "You're my whole world."

Subconsciously or not, Whizzer wasn't sure, Jason's fingers tightened on his hand. A small sob jumped from his mouth, a smile shining through the tear that fell from his eye. He sniffed,

"I'm holding on for you, kid."


End file.
